


Firewhisky

by Notmuchtosay100



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 06:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18360923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notmuchtosay100/pseuds/Notmuchtosay100
Summary: Pansy and Hermione share a drunken kiss at a party after they return for Seventh year. As the year progresses as does their relationship.





	Firewhisky

**Author's Note:**

> Starting off as a bit of a one shot, will continue as a series of drabbles with a continued storyline. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Also if any of you see this and are wondering about my other story, Fleur's balcony, don't fret! I'm on it, promise. Your kind words really do lighten up my days)

Hermione knew she shouldn’t have come to this, she just knew, but Ginny had never been one to take no for an answer. The hours before she’d dragged herself here, or rather been dragged, flashed into her mind. 

“Come on, Mione! Don’t we deserve some sort of relaxation, and you most of all? It’s your last year at Hogwarts and you’ve basically got all your NEWT’s already!” Ginny said, preoccupied as she picked which shoes she was going to wear for tonight. Hermione knew she was right, but parties had never been something to pique her interest, especially when Harry and Ron weren’t there. “Need I mention the fact we just survived, and won, a war and have the right to get absolutely sloshed on fire whiskey while we still pretend we’re young and carefree?” Continued the taller girl, who had now turned her full attention to the brunette in front of her. 

“Fine, alright Gin. I’ll come. Are you happy now?” Hermione sighed, sitting up on Ginny’s bed, the book she’d been trying to read dropping to her side.

“Happier than I’ve ever been in my life actually,” Ginny teased as she walked up to Hermione, bending over the bed to engulf her in a hug.

“Yeah, whatever.” Smiled Hermione, leaning back onto her elbows as Ginny made her way to the mirror. “Does Harry know you’re getting pissed at parties by the way?” Quipped Hermione, her nerves starting to dissipate and a warmth spreading through her at the ease at which Ginny made her relax. 

“He does in fact and is whole heartedly supportive, especially when he goes out every weekend with all his Auror friends, neglecting to reply to his loving girlfriends letters fast enough. But we let each other off,” She grinned, spinning in her new striped dress. Ginny looked at Hermione behind her through the mirror “I can see you eyeing up my outfit, I have another one similar you know? Perfect for picking up boys… or girls,” She winked, effortlessly avoiding the pillow that was chucked at her face.

“You can’t use those quidditch moves against me, Weasley!” Hermione called, laughter breaking through her defensive tone. It had been easy to come out to Ginny as bisexual, mainly because it wasn’t like the muggle world, but also because she was just that bloody class.

And that’s how Hermione had found herself sat in the room of requirements, Ginny nowhere to be found and shamefully as it were to admit, partially plastered on beer and wine sourced from an unknown location (that they certainly weren’t going to tell the Head girl). She had positioned herself in what she considered the safest position possible, somewhat hidden behind an arabian-esque curtain, tucked neatly in the corner of the transformed room, away from prying and curious eyes. She’d quickly learned many of the lower years were rather intimidated by the so called ‘brightest witch of her age’ and now aptly titled ‘war hero’, and the few who had come back to finish off their final year didn’t have much of an interest in chatting with her. Not that Hermione minded too much, she had Ginny, Cho and Luna too. Still, there was always a bit of an aching feeling when she missed her boys, even if Ron could take the piss sometimes.

She scanned the room slowly, her head feeling light from the alcohol. Instruments played themselves in the air as carefree students enjoyed their Friday night, almost as if a war hadn’t ended over six months ago. Tables and sofas were littered throughout the room as people drank and chatted, while one corner had what Hermione guessed was dancing but one could have also described as flailing. Her corner seemed peaceful compared to the buzz before her. She barely noticed the figure waltzing up to her casually and seating themselves across from her on a loan armchair. 

“Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here Granger, didn’t see you as the party type?” came the teasing voice of Slytherins very own Queen Bee.

“Parkinson,” Hermione said, her prior giddiness suddenly replaced with anxiety, blaming the way her hands started to shake from the chill of the window behind her.

“How did you get invited to a party for once?” Pansy asked, tone not exactly malicious but not joking either. 

“I was about to ask you the same thing, I would have thought the room of Requirements kept bad people out, not let them in,” Hermione drawled half seriously, eyes fixed on the floor, not finding the energy to look directly at Pansy. 

Pansy let out a dry laugh but she didn’t move to get up. “Yeah you’re right about that.” She murmured, leaning back into the softness of the armchair.

Taken aback by Pansy’s surprising self-aware confession, Hermione turned to look at her properly. She really hadn’t changed at all apart from growing a few inches taller than Hermione. Her hair was still a dark bob cut with bangs that stopped above her eyes, a bright green colour resembling those similar to a cats, fitting for a Slytherin. Hermione really couldn’t deny that she was gorgeous, the way her hair shaped her face perfectly and the sharpness of her jawline made Hermione’s stomach flip, but that could also be because she’d been on the opposite side during the war. She looked tired, which could have been for so many reasons, but her eyes were alive with something Hermione couldn’t quite place.

“Ginny convinced me. It’s not really my thing,” admitted the Gryffindor, taking a sip of her drink. 

Pansy mimicked her by drinking from her own cup, the bright silver of the goblet contrasting with the deep maroon of her jumper. “They seem to have quite a few more drinks this time compared to usual, it must have been a hard week,” she states, nonchalantly. 

“Why did you come back?” the question left Hermione’s lips before she could stop it, something she would attribute to the alcohol on reflection. She wasn’t sure why she asked, she wasn’t entirely sure why she cared but for some reason she wanted to know the answer.

If Pansy had been bothered by the question she didn’t let it show, only taking in a slow deep breath as she tilted her head to the side, eyes locking onto the Gryffindor in front of her. “To get my NEWT’s Granger, just like you. I didn’t spend the majority of my childhood being forced to study to not get my results at the end of it,” Sighed Pansy, turning her face away from Hermione in a way that made it difficult to believe what she was actually saying, but she wasn’t about to call her out on it. 

“That’s fair,” said Hermione. An awkward silence fell between them and she searched for something to fill the gap, fingers digging into her jeans. “I knew you liked parties but I didn’t know this was your type of crowd?” She gestured to the mix of all four houses, a significantly smaller proportion of Slytherins however, all laughing and drinking together.

“I’d prefer to be here than sat alone in the Slytherin common room.” She paused, turning her head to watch the Sixth and Seventh years enjoying the atmosphere “Plus once you get to know some of them, they aren’t that bad,” She mumbled. 

“If only you’d realised that sooner,” replied Hermione, colder than she’d intended, earning a surprised eyebrow raise from the girl opposite.

Pansy didn’t respond, only took another sip of the drink she was holding, her long fingers gripping the cup noticeably tighter than before. 

“Anyways I should probably be getting back to my room,” Added Hermione, placing down the cup of now room temperature beer she’d been given by Ginny just before she’d disappeared. 

“It’s ten thirty on a Friday night, Granger,” said Pansy, her expression blank.

“I have head girl duties, Pansy,” Replied Hermione, tired of having to explain to people with less responsibilities than she did, why she had to do those responsibilities. 

“Ah of course. Doesn’t that sweet private head girl dormitory make it all worth it though?” 

“I suppose it does,” she replied truthfully. She did admit that the privacy and luxury of her own dormitory was well worth the extra responsibilities she had to take on, and considering she’d already been awarded four of her NEWT grades by McGonagall personally, she really didn’t have that much to do. 

“Bunk them off tonight, the corridor can patrol itself one Friday of the month,” suggested the Slytherin, who casually brushed away the bangs, that were slightly too long, from her eyes

“And what do you suggest I do instead?” inquired Hermione, allowing genuine curiosity to lace her voice.

“Come to the Astronomy tower with me,” Offered Pansy, letting one leg casually cross over the other in her rather form fitting jeans. 

Having expected a sarcastic answer Hermione had been somewhat surprised and her emotions went from a mix of confusion to shock to finally suspicion, all of which she was sure were evident on her face because Pansy let out a quiet laugh “I promise I’m not trying to trick you. It’s pretty and quiet, and not about to turn into the Three Broomsticks when England lost the world cup,”

Hermione had noticed the party was getting a bit too much for her and the beer was still flowing freely, as well as what Hermione assumed was more wine that had been snuck in – she’d really have to look into how they were getting it so easily in the morning. It also felt like Pansy was challenging her, not like they used to when they were younger but a different type of challenge. Even now she wasn’t about to let Parkinson outplay her. 

“Lead the way. And no funny business, Parkinson.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Head girl,”

\--

They sat mid-way up the tower, light from the open window slits illuminating the narrow corridor. 

Hermione shivered from the cold and out of the corner of her eye she could see Pansy wordlessly cast a warming charm around them.

“You like charms?” She asked almost instinctively, the air around them immediately turning into a more comfortable temperature blocking out the late November air.

“They’re useful to know. My friends were never interested in the more…” She paused mid-sentence, thinking about her words carefully “Casual ones,”. Hermione guessed that they had in fact been very interested in the violent ones, but she kept it to herself “So it was my job to learn all of ones they didn’t think they needed. But oddly enough I was always casting them,” 

“Boys never tend to realise how often they need something until the girls who know how to do them aren’t there,” Smiled Hermione, nostalgia of memories with Harry and Ron hitting her quickly. 

“You’re right about that,” Pansy smiled, eyes locking with Hermione’s before darting to the view out of the exposed window. She pulled out a flask and took a swig before offering it to Hermione. “It’s firewhisky, in case you thought it might be something more sinister,” teased the Slytherin, but it was friendlier this time. 

Despite her head still feeling a bit dizzy she took the bottle smoothly, fingers brushing against Pansy’s. She took a good sip, the liquid burning her throat as it went down. It was almost as bad as the burning in her cheeks she got as she watched Pansy grinning at her as she swallowed.

“Something funny, Parkinson?” Hermione did her best to choke out the question as she passed the flask back, the alcohol spreading a wave of warmth through her.

“I just didn’t expect to be partaking in banned activities with the Gryffindor golden girl on a Friday night.” laughed Pansy softly, taking the bottle back and clasping it gently between her hands. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” stated Hermione, letting her eyes trace down the face of the girl next to her. Her lips were an inviting cherry red and Hermione had to stop herself from licking her own lips.

“I can see that. Is it worth finding out all of the things I don’t know?” She challenged.

“What makes you think I’d let you find out. You were never interested in a mudblood before” snapped Hermione, annoyed at Pansy’s sudden obnoxiousness and her confusion at the sudden interest she had in her. 

Pansy’s face tensed up and she leant back slightly, barely noticeable unless you were looking at her closely. Hermione might have been proud to have made her uneasy if she could forget the angry memory on her left arm. Pansy raised her arms in defence “Maybe I’m interested now,”. Hermione let out a sigh, turning back to the window. Her heartbeat was still unpleasantly quick and she felt uncomfortable that she couldn’t place how she felt. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I know it doesn’t mean much but for what it’s worth, I am,” 

Hermione swallowed thickly but said nothing in return. They passed the flask between them as they watched the sky ahead, the soft sounds of the lake occasionally echoing below them. The silence wasn’t awkward like it had been before, but it was Pansy to break it this time.

“I like to come here sometimes. At night usually.” Admitted Pansy, her face free of its usual stern look of disapproval. Hermione liked how she looked now, it was kind and open. “It’s quiet, I don’t have to think about the past or the future.”

“It’s nice not to have to think for a while. Shocking coming from me I’m sure,” she heard Pansy let out a small laugh next to her and laughed along too. She considered this may be the first time they’ve laughed together and didn’t mind it at all. 

“That it a bit surprising,” replied Pansy, taking another drink “but we all need a break from life occasionally. It’s a hard place, lonely too.”

Their eyes met, cold green to Hermione’s warm brown, and she felt compelled to close the gap between them. She leant forward, placing a hand lightly on Pansy’s face and their lips met gently. It was soft and warm, so delicate that she was worried she might be dreaming. It was different from when she kissed boys, especially Ron. Then she felt Pansy move her lips against her and suddenly she needed more contact. Quickly slipping her other hand around the taller girls neck she moved her body so she was facing her better, awkward on the steps but neither of them noticed. Pansy quickly slipped her arms around Hermione’s waist pulling her up so that she was sitting on Pansy’s lap. Suddenly slightly taller than the Slytherin and their bodies pulled together on the cold steps of the staircase, Hermione broke the kiss and ran her hand through the soft locks of Pansy’s hair as her mind tried to compute what was happening.

Their breathing was ragged and needy with eyes locked dangerously together, although Hermione didn’t have much time to consider if this had been her best idea before Pansy kissed her again, harder this time. A small moan escaped Hermione’s lips into the kiss to which Pansy took as an opportunity to French things up. This didn’t make Hermione wince like it had before, or made her question if she even liked kissing, it made her head spin and her mind go blank. She pulled the fabric on the collar of pansy’s jumper closer to herself, wanting every bit of the girl in front of her. She heard Pansy whisper her name breathlessly through the kiss and this was enough to send her over the edge. She bit down softly on Pansy’s lower lip as she felt the other girls hand move up her thigh, if it kept going like this Hermione wouldn’t be able to stop. 

“What? Are you scared of Filtchy and his little cat? Come on, no one’s going to be here!” Hushed whispers echoed up the tower and she could feel Pansy’s body tense up rigidly as the kiss was ended unceremoniously fast. 

“What’s the point? Nothing’s up there anyway.” Steps crept closer and closer, Hermione guessed maybe three or four people as her hands began to shake for the second time this evening. She felt Pansy pull her wand out of her jeans, presumably to hex the unfortunate lower years who would come around the corner before they even got the chance to see them. Clouds has darkened the night sky so Hermione could no longer see Pansy’s face clearly, but she was sure it was just as worried as her own. 

“Bollocks, I think I left my wand by the great lake!” a frantic voice said, leading to the steps coming up to a sudden stop.

“Are you bloody serious? Well no need to worry the giant squid probably has it now,” Laughed another voice.

“Come on, it’s too cold up on the tower anyway,” The voices and steps began to quieten as they descended the stairs, unbeknownst to those they belonged to that they’d caused the premature aging of Hermione by at least three years in shock. Pansy cleared her throat and Hermione became aware of just how tight she’d been holding onto the girl’s collar. 

“Sorry,” Whispered the Gryffindor, who quickly released her hold around the girls neck “Wouldn’t want to choke you,” Continued the shaken Hermione who also became acutely aware that she was still sat on Pansy Parkinson’s lap, any trace of alcoholic courage having been shocked out of her system. 

“I see why you need to do your patrol duties now,” Pansy stated, a slight quiver uncharacteristically present in her voice.

“Right. I’ll be off and do them then,” decided Hermione, standing quickly. The striking loss of warmth from the charm around them, coupled with the wave of dizziness that followed almost sent her tumbling down the astronomy stairs had it not been for the supportive arm Pansy wrapped around Hermione’s waist. 

“Aren’t you a bit too far gone to finish them?” Questioned Pansy, looking up at Hermione with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. 

“Nonsense,” Hermione said confidently, all while her inability to balance led her to smash her face into Pansy’s shoulder. “Maybe… Maybe the firewhisky has finally hit me,” admitted the Gryffindor, allowing herself to take in whatever perfume Pansy was wearing.

“Come on, golden girl. Let’s walk you to your castle. I bet I could leave you right outside McGonagall’s office and you seriously wouldn’t know the difference,” said Pansy, starting to descend the stairs with Hermione to her right.

“Better than letting Peeves find me,” Hermione replied, shaking her head at the thought. 

Pansy expertly manoeuvred Hermione through the castle, ignoring the judgmental looks from the castle portraits as they went. Eventually they’d reached Hermione’s portrait door, making the Gryffindor feel a bit disappointed. She didn’t exactly want to lose the feeling of Pansy’s arms around her right now, however baffling for her this was.

“Shall I leave you here? Wait for me to walk a bit and then you can say your password,”

“Crookshanks,” Slurred Hermione, her head resting on Pansy’s shoulder.

“A bit obvious, don’t you think?” Inquired Pansy, guiding Hermione through the doorway. 

“I’m sorry, when did you know what my cat was called?” 

Pansy scoffed “The amount of times you and bloody Weasley fought over it, half the castle knows by now,” 

“He’s a good boy,” Hermione drawled “The cat not the Ron,” giggled Hermione, her head still spinning. 

“I’ve learnt you’re not much of a drinker,” Pansy replied, a smile on her lips anyway. 

“No, not really,” admitted the curly haired brunette as she finally dropped into one of the chairs by her fireplace. 

“I’ll leave you here then.” Said Pansy, hands on her hips as she looked around Hermione’s dorm. Hermione, had she been more aware of her surroundings, might have been embarrassed at the piles of books displayed in (dis)organised chaos around the room. What she also wasn’t aware of was that Pansy thought it was all very cosy, not like her manor at all. But she didn’t know that. 

“Are you going to pretend we never did this?” Hermione asked quietly, eyelids heavy but her heart was hammering as she remembered the kiss from before. 

“Maybe,” Pansy replied, “Are you?”

“Maybe.”

“You might not even remember it judging by how badly you handle your alcohol,” Pansy said, eyes going over some of the book titles scattered on the table. 

“It’s not my fault,” Hermione whined, watching as Pansy had now begun to make her way towards the exit. 

“Get some sleep. Goodnight, Granger,” Pansy concluded, sending one last glance at the Gryffindor as she closed the Portrait behind her. 

“Goodnight, Parkinson,” Hermione’s last thought before she clocked out in her chair was that she might need to drink Firewhisky more often.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you liked it and I welcome any advice, ideas or thoughts you might have :)


End file.
